


Just Another Romcom Gone Wrong (or Why Stiles Hates Roadtrips and Werewolves and Werewolf Roadtrips)

by Lunarwolfik



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:15:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarwolfik/pseuds/Lunarwolfik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is not proud of having to get Derek to give him a ride to Scott’s graduation.  But it was either that, catch the bus, or hitchhike and considering his previous encounters with lady luck, there was no fucking way he was going to hitchhike.  There’d been enough murder and mayhem in Beacon Hills to make Stiles start toeing the line, thank you very much.</p><p>Of course, Derek isn’t above giving him The Face when Stiles asks, the one that makes Stiles flustered and angry, with a dash of turned-on for good measure.  He looks at Stiles with innocently raised brows and a smirk tipping the corners of his mouth, and all Stiles can think about is what that smile would feel like beneath his lips.</p><p>"Really? You want me to give you a ride.  I’m sorry, I mean, you want me to be stuck in a car with you for five hours?” Derek asks, amused and skeptical.</p><p>Derek’s brows inch up a bit more.</p><p>Stiles thinks about licking his jaw.</p><p>“It’s that or take the bus and if I take the bus, it’ll probably break down or something and then I’ll miss his graduation and Scott will murder me in my sleep.  So yes, that’s what I’m asking,” Stiles grits out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Romcom Gone Wrong (or Why Stiles Hates Roadtrips and Werewolves and Werewolf Roadtrips)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emeli_Thorne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeli_Thorne/gifts).



> Written for [mimi-hiddleston](http://mimi-hiddleston.tumblr.com). The prompt was "Stiles and Derek going on their first trip alone".
> 
> Futurefic AU that circumnavigates Season 3, alternatively known as the No One Died AU.

Stiles is not proud of having to get Derek to give him a ride to Scott’s graduation. But it was either that, catch the bus, or hitchhike and considering his previous encounters with lady luck, there was no fucking way he was going to hitchhike. There’d been enough murder and mayhem in Beacon Hills to make Stiles start toeing the line, thank you very much.

Of course, Derek isn’t above giving him The Face when Stiles asks, the one that makes Stiles flustered and angry, with a dash of turned-on for good measure. He looks at Stiles with innocently raised brows and a smirk tipping the corners of his mouth, and all Stiles can think about is what that smile would feel like beneath his lips.

"Really? You want me to give you a ride. I’m sorry, I mean, you want me to be stuck in a car with you for five hours?” Derek asks, amused and skeptical.

Derek’s brows inch up a bit more.

Stiles thinks about licking his jaw.

“It’s that or take the bus and if I take the bus, it’ll probably break down or something and then I’ll miss his graduation and Scott will murder me in my sleep. So yes, that’s what I’m asking,” Stiles grits out.

Derek shrugs. “Okay fine, but you better be a damn good navigator. And provide snacks.”

***

“These are terrible snacks,” Derek says, tossing the chips back at Stiles.

Stiles balks.

“Were you expecting a slab of meat or something?”

“Something better than chips or-fruit, really Stiles, fruit?” Derek holds up an apple with mild condemnation.

“I’m trying to be healthy dude, it’s not easy working off that freshmen-fifteen,” Stiles snaps back, grabbing the apple from Derek’s unappreciative paw.  
Derek eyes him up and down.

“You look fine,” Derek says after a beat, face blank and eyes carefully back on the road. 

Stiles is a little bit speechless and he’s pretty sure there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, but he’s hoping Derek won’t notice over the sound of him noisily protesting.

Derek’s crooked smile a few seconds later almost makes Stiles think he’d meant it though.

***

"I told you to bring the map."

"And I told you I had a map."

"Yea, on your phone."

"That still counts as a map," Stiles yelps back.

"Not when your phone is scattered across a busy friggin highway!"

Stiles frowns, torn between being offended and deeply depressed. It wasn't like it had been his fault his phone had accidentally fallen out the window and had gotten run over by what looked like five cars, a pickup truck, and a motorcycle. Or that it had taken him twenty miles and one fit of panicked searching to figure that part out.

"Hey man, back off, I just lost my phone, that's like losing my arm."

Derek rolls his eyes before storming back to the car.

“Oh yea, real mature!” Stiles calls to his retreating figure, giving the highway one last forlorn look.

Stiles, not for the first time, wishes he had the wolfy hearing cause he can see Derek muttering to himself in the car and he really wishes he could hear that conversation. If only to needle him some more and make him feel worse for hitting the window button instead of the radio while Stiles wasn’t paying attention and had subsequently caused the whole situation.

Stiles gets back in the car just as Derek starts the engine.

“Just because I couldn’t hear you, doesn’t mean I don’t have a really good idea what you were saying,” Stiles says, giving Derek the stink-eye.

“Just because I don’t leave your ass here, doesn’t mean I won’t at the next reststop,” Derek snarks back, deadpan.

Stiles opens his mouth, cheeks red, fully intending to snark back except Derek’s ringing phone cuts him off. Stiles glares, mouthing, ‘this isn’t over’ and then burrows into his seat.

Derek, one hand on the wheel, answers the call without even glancing Stiles’ way.

Stiles doesn’t need the superpowers to be able to hear Scott’s muffled voice on the other end though. His words are rushed and a little high-pitched.

“Really?”

“No.”

“Forget it.”

Derek sighs before hanging up.

“That was Scott,” Derek says in a clipped tone.

Stiles makes a waving motion for Derek to continue.

“His graduation got moved to tomorrow.”

Stiles doesn’t respond, knowing that if he waits long enough, Derek will get over his monosyllabic tendencies and get around to filling him in.

“So we’re going to have to pile into his crappy-ass apartment for the night instead of driving back.”

Stiles had been to Scott’s college apartment approximately seven times, and each time he swears it had gotten smaller. That or Scott kept cramming in more stuff that he didn't need. Or both. There was a suspiciously high-volume of lacrosse supplies for just two players.

“Dibs on the couch,” Stiles says before Derek can.

Derek shoots him a glare.

“Hey, all’s fair in love and house-crashing,” Stiles throws back, putting up his hands in fake innocence. There was no way he was sleeping on the floor. Again. Isaac had tripped over him and Allison had accidentally dropped a spoon on his face the last time. Plus he’d woken up with his right side suspiciously numb and there was no way he was risking it just because Scott’s school decided to fuck up their plans.

***

As it turns out, they're not the only ones hoping to crash with Scott. And when they finally get there three hours later, Stiles is certain that Scott’s place really had shrunk. A few chairs had been shoved around to make room for a couple sleeping bags and a whole Bed and Bath store's amount of pillows. But the place certainly wasn’t spacious by any means.

Boyd had gotten there first, his bag already slung across the couch, his face a picture of smugness as he ushers them in.

Scott’s out at the time, getting a last minute cap and gown and probably having Mrs. McCall stopping him every two seconds to snap a picture.

Stiles doesn't even get to ask before Boyd says, “you guys have fun with the floor,” and that’s when Stiles vows to never trust pack planning skills ever again. Because sure, they were werewolves, of course they were cool with snuggles and piles and weirdly affectionate touches, but fuck, Stiles sure as hell wasn’t, especially with Derek. It had been tough enough convincing him to drive him up and now he had to practically share a bed and honestly, he really didn’t need that kind of awkward sexual tension at the moment.

“Lydia, I will pay you money to let me stay with you,” Stiles says when she arrives an hour later, graduation gift in hand.

She breezes past him, patting his cheek with familiar pity.

“Oh sweetie, you know how I feel about guests. Plus, Erica and Cora are already staying and also, suck it up,” she answers politely but Stiles can hear the undercurrent of “bitch please”.

Clasping his hands together, he begs.

“Please. Pretty please. I will buy you ice cream, just don’t let me have to share with Derek.”

“Tempting, but still a no. Though I will take that ice cream,” she throws back over her shoulder as she stashes Scott’s gift on the kitchen table.

“I can still hear you Stiles!” Derek calls out from the bedroom where Stiles assumes he was busy rearranging books or documenting all the security flaws in case any rogue werewolves attacked Scott in his sleep.

“Well then you can also hear me not giving a fuck!” Stiles calls back but there’s no bite to it.

“My life is one big romcom gone wrong,” he murmurs, quieter, before he can stop himself. He catches Boyd’s grin and hopes to god that Derek didn't heard a word.


End file.
